Chapter Nine
Whenever he kissed Camila, all Carl’s troubles receded into the back of his mind. He couldn’t believe it had taken so many years to get her into his arms. It hadn’t taken much to persuade her to try out the king-size bed in their new master suite. Now she lay next to him, tucked in his arms, looking up at him with plain anticipation.
“I love being with you,” he told her, sliding his hands up under her shirt until they spanned her rib cage, his thumbs resting against the underside of her breasts. She leaned into him, and he skimmed them higher, palming her softness, uttering a moan she echoed. She let him push her shirt off her shoulders, and he drank in the sight of her breasts encased in a lacy blush-red bra. Camila was all woman, her curves spilling over its confines. When she lifted her hands to his shirt, he tugged it over his head and tossed it aside.
She splayed her hands over his chest, and a wash of heat spread through him. Now that they’d started, he didn’t want to stop. He’d meant to take his time exploring Camila’s body, but he found his fingers at the button of her jeans, and when she didn’t stop him, he freed it from its buttonhole. Camila’s hands were fumbling at his waistline, and soon they were racing to undress. When they were naked, Carl knelt between her thighs, boxed her in with a hand to either side of her head, leaned down and kissed her, sucking in his breath at the electricity between them everywhere they touched. He trailed kisses over her mouth, her jaw, down the side of her neck and into the hollow at the base of her throat.
Camila lifted her hands over her head, arched back and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Carl didn’t need a clearer invitation. As he positioned himself, Camila moaned, a soft sound that revved him up. He knew exactly how she felt. He craved this night and day. He moved slowly, pushing inside her, trying to savor every sensation as pleasure spread through him. Camila met each thrust with a lift of her hips, guided his mouth to her breast and moaned with pleasure at his touch. He was having a hard time holding back, but he paced himself until she showed him with the motion of her hips that she didn’t want him to go slow. She urged him on, moved against him, opened up to him until he lost control.
They went over the edge together, both of them crying out, neither bothering to hold back until Carl finally collapsed on top of her, breathing hard.
“Camila,” he managed to say.
She wriggled underneath him, and when he slid out of her and shifted to the side to take his weight off her, she followed him and cuddled against him. Carl turned onto his back, tucking Camila under his arm. Staring up at the ceiling, he didn’t care what happened next. This was all he needed. The woman he loved.
Everything else would work itself out.
This was paradise, Camila decided.
The ranch was wonderful, but at the end of the day, all she needed was Carl. He was a miracle among men. He’d understood her need for time to be ready for a relationship. He’d waited until he could fulfill her wishes—and those of her family.
He touched her in a way that left her breathless with desire. Even now—so soon after making love—she wanted him inside her again.
She wished she’d understood how special he was back when she’d first made her ultimatum. Instead of pushing him away, she would have invited him into her life and they could have lived in a cave for all she cared.
Although this house was pretty special.
She settled against Carl and tried to picture their future together. How many mornings would she wake up just like this, by Carl’s side, anticipating the day?
How many meals would she cook in her glorious new kitchen? How many Christmases would they celebrate—how many trees would they decorate in the grand living room?
She’d hardly dared dream that life could ever work out this way—that she could ever actually end up with Carl.
She turned to him. “I love you.”
He brushed a kiss across her mouth. “I love you, too. Always have, I think. From the first time I saw you.”
“Why?”
“Because of your laugh,” he confessed. “Only some people are open enough to life to laugh like that. I wanted to know who you were—how you were brave enough to do that. Back then I was still holding back a bit. Burned by Lacey.”
“But you asked me out.”
“I did.”
“And told me you were serious.”
“Because I was. From that first moment, I knew I wanted you to be my wife.”
She tried to take it in. “You waited for me.”
“Camila, what else could I have done?”
She didn’t have an answer for that except to kiss him and, when that wasn’t enough, to pull him close and let him make love to her all over again.
This time they moved together slowly, building to a peak that left her shaking when her orgasm spent itself. Every time she was with Carl it was a miracle. She hadn’t known it could be this good.
“We should be getting back,” she said reluctantly.
“I know.” Carl sat up, and she followed him, sighing with pleasure when he cupped one of her breasts and bent to give it a final kiss. “I could stay here forever,” he groaned. “Just you and me. No clothes.”
“Sounds heavenly.”
“When should we tie the knot?” Carl asked Camila as they dressed.
“Soon,” she said.
Carl’s pulse gave a throb. “Are you sure? We haven’t exactly gotten a lot of chances to date.” He didn’t want to rush this. He intended to marry once, which meant he owed Camila a whole lot of romance, because he didn’t want her ever to go looking for it from another man.
“I’m sure. Carl—I’m ready for this, does that make sense? I’m ready to be settled here. To move on with our lives, together.”
Carl crossed to her and pulled her into an embrace. She felt so good fitted against his body. “How soon?”
“The first Saturday in June,” she said.
“That’s just weeks away!” He pulled back. “What about your family? Won’t they need more warning than that? And we have to find a venue—”
“We’ll hold it here,” she said simply.
Of course. He should have thought of that.
“This week we’ll make our plans. We’ll do our invitations and make our lists. Next week we’ll put it in motion and make it happen.”
“Just like that?” he asked.
“Just like that. I own a restaurant, for heaven’s sake, so we’ve got catering taken care of. We’ll need a huge dinner service anyway for this house, so we can order that in the next few days. All we need is someone to perform the ceremony.”
“I’ll ask Reverend Halpern,” Carl said. “Unless you’d prefer a priest.”
“I like Reverend Halpern,” she told him, “If we have a priest, we’d have to marry in church, and I want to marry on our front lawn.”
“Your family won’t mind?”
“It’s our wedding,” she told him. “That means we get to do what we want.”
“Okay, I can agree to that.” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “But are you sure?” he asked again.
“I’ve never been surer about anything.” She reached up to kiss his cheek.
He pulled her close again. “You’re going to make me the happiest man on earth.”
“I’m going to try.”
“You’re glowing,” Juana said when Camila entered the restaurant again. She and Fila had gotten everything prepared, and the first of the lunch customers were just arriving. Camila hurried to wash her hands, tie on her apron and get to work, too.
Fila looked up at her. “Juana’s right; you are glowing. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just had a good time with Carl.” She waved her hand to show off her ring, and Fila let out a gasp.
“He proposed?” She rushed over to look. “Oh, my goodness, that’s a gorgeous ring!”
“Will you two be my bridesmaids?”
“Bridesmaids!” Fila’s shriek must have been audible across town. “Yes, of course!”
“Absolutely!” Juana said. Both of them threw their arms around Camila and hugged her.
“That’s not all,” Camila said. “Carl bought a ranch…”
Later that night, safe in her cabin, happier than she could say, Camila dialed her parents’ phone number. She was tucked in her bed in comfy pajamas, Juana asleep already on the hide-a-bed in the living room.
“Mamá? It’s me.”
“Cariña, how are you? How’s your cousin?”
“She’s doing great. She keeps coming up with different burrito fillings, and everyone loves them. I think it’s going to be her thing.”
Her mother chuckled. “So she has had to adapt, like we have all had to.”
“Was it hard for you and Papá when you first got to Houston?”
“Si. So hard. We had to adapt, too,” her mother said. “But I am glad we came. We learned so much.”
Camila couldn’t remember her mother ever being so positive.
“Now we return to Mexico at the end of June,” Paula added. “We are helping Mateo renovate the restaurant and then we’ll go home.”
Home. Her mother said the word with all the reverence Camila had begun to feel for Chance Creek.
“You’re going to love being back in Mexico, won’t you?” she asked softly.
“Sí. I hadn’t known how much I missed it. I’ll still miss you, though. Maybe you’ll come back, too, someday?”
“To visit,” Camila told her. “But Chance Creek is my home now. Mamá, I’m going to marry Carl. And he bought a ranch. I’m going to have a home of my own.”
“Cariña!” Her mother launched into an excited spate of Spanish, talking so fast Camila could barely keep up. “Diego. Diego! Camila is getting married!”
Camila had to laugh when her father got on the line, too.
“You’re getting married?”
“Yes.”
“To Carl?”
“Yes!”
She told them about their wedding plans and their new house.
“We’ll have a guest room for you any time you want to visit.” She bit her lip, remembering they’d never visited before. “You will come to the wedding, won’t you?” she asked in a small voice.
“Of course we’ll come. I’m the mother of the bride!”
“And I’m the father. I need to walk my girl down the aisle.”
“And I need to cook!” her mother added.
Camila’s heart swelled. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Neither can I,” her mother said. “Now tell me everything.”
It was ironic that just a week ago Carl had stood onstage at the high school’s auditorium and been excited to address the public. Tonight he was dreading facing the crowd who would gather soon at Fila’s Familia. Now that he had the deed to Laurel Heights in his hand, he and Camila had decided it was time to announce their engagement—and upcoming wedding—to the Turners and Coopers.
They’d debated how best to do it, and Camila had made it clear she thought each of them should talk alone to their honorary “families.” But Carl didn’t want her facing the Turners without him. He figured they should get it all done at once.
“Do you think this is going to work?” Fila asked him. They were in the kitchen, the women working hard to prepare a special meal. They’d decided to close the restaurant to the public tonight and serve a banquet to the two families.
“Food soothes the savage beast, and all,” Camila had said.
“That’s music,” Fila had told her dryly.
So now music was wafting through the restaurant as well. Soothing music from a mix Fila had found online at a New Age site. It was called Harmonious Interweaving. Carl hoped it worked.
“Smells good in here,” Cab Johnson called out when he opened the door to the restaurant a few minutes later.
Carl pushed through the swinging kitchen door and went to meet him. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thought about bringing the SWAT team along,” Cab joked. “Figured that might be overkill, though.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Camila said, coming out of the kitchen, too, and wiping her hands on her apron. “Cab, good to see you again. Think you can keep the peace while we make our announcement?”
“I hope so.”
“Maybe you should eat now,” Fila said, following her. “You might be too busy later.”
“I’ll take an appetizer to tide me over,” Cab agreed.
He was still eating an empanada when the door opened again and Jedidiah Turner walked in, followed by Noah, Liam, Maya and Stella. Camila greeted them warmly and ushered them to a table while Cab and Carl talked. Carl caught the Turners looking his way more than once, but they didn’t seem to realize he was the reason they were there.
“What are we celebrating?” Jed kept asking.
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise,” Camila told him.
“Is this about Juana?” Maya asked. “How is she doing?”
“Just great,” Camila assured her. “She’ll be out later. I need to go help, so relax and enjoy; I’ll get drinks out to you shortly.”
She disappeared into the kitchen, as they’d planned. A few moments later, the Coopers showed up.
“Virginia!” Carl met her at the door and ushered her into the restaurant. Steel, Lance and Olivia followed.
All of them stopped when they caught sight of the Turners sitting around a table.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Virginia demanded of Carl.
“Have a seat.” He indicated a table across the room from the Turners.
“Why are they here?” she asked, not moving an inch.
“I can’t control who comes to a restaurant. But I can buy all of you dinner. So sit down, and let’s get ready to order.”
“This is a setup, isn’t it?” Olivia demanded under her breath as she passed him on the way to the table. Carl heaved a sigh of relief when the Coopers were all sitting down.
Just as he and the women had planned, they began to bring out platters of food the minute everyone was seated. Cab sat at a small table placed between the two families. Fila served him first with a single platter lined with small portions from many of the dishes they served.
“This is our sampler platter,” she told him and set it down with a flourish.
Juana followed with the drink he’d ordered, then both women went back to get more. Fila served the Coopers next, while Juana served the Turners.
“Aren’t you going to sit?” Virginia asked.
“I’ve got something to say first.” He waited until all the food and drinks were on the tables before he fetched Camila. He squeezed her hand as he led her back into the main room of the restaurant, and she squeezed his back.
A murmur of conversation ran around the room as both families took in the way they were standing together.
“Listen up, folks,” Carl began. “I’ve got something to say. We both do.” He took a deep breath. “Camila and I are getting married.”
Camila had expected a reaction to their announcement, but this took the cake. Virginia and Jed both jumped to their feet, Jed yelling at Camila for her disloyalty, and Virginia yelling at him to shut up. Liam and Lance hurled insults at each other across the restaurant. Stella and Maya looked shocked, and Olivia and Noah seemed to be having some kind of secret communication with looks and shrugs.
Cab waited a long moment, got slowly to his feet and suddenly bellowed, “Shut up!”
In the stunned silence that followed, the sheriff wiped his hands on a napkin. “Those two are in love. Get over it.”
“I helped that traitor buy a ranch,” Virginia sputtered. “This is how he repays me?”
“I helped you ram your school project through the board’s approval process,” Carl reminded her. “We’re even, as far as I see it.”
“That’s what happens when you try to outwit the Turners,” Jed told Virginia. “You get your comeuppance.”
“I’ll come up your you-know-what in a minute and give you what-for!” Virginia retorted.
“Settle down!” Cab put his hands on his hips. “I’ve got two things to say to you all. One—” he held up a finger “—neither Carl nor Camila are Turners or Coopers.”
The room erupted again until Cab slapped his hand on the table and they settled back down.
“Two, I haven’t heard a single congratulations out of any of you. And that’s just plain bad manners.”
“It’s bad manners to marry the enemy,” Virginia said.
“Carl isn’t my enemy.” Camila spoke up for the first time. “He’s a man I’ve loved for years. We invited you here because we hoped you’d come to our wedding, but that’s not going to happen unless you can behave yourselves.”
“Behave ourselves?” Liam spoke up. “You two are the ones sneaking around behind everyone’s back. That’s not well-behaved.”
“That’s self-preservation,” Carl contradicted him. “And you know I’m right.”
Liam subsided into muttered complaints.
“Look, we’re marrying with or without you, and we’re doing so at our new ranch,” Carl said. “You want to get a good look at it, you’d better make your peace with us being together. Otherwise none of you gets an invite.”
“It’s going to be the wedding of the year,” Camila proclaimed. “Good food, good drinks. Lots of music and dancing.”
“I want to come to your wedding,” Olivia said suddenly. “I’ll behave myself. I swear.”
Camila exchanged a glance with Carl. Progress.
“Olivia,” Lance said warningly.
“Oh, come on,” she told her brother. “It’s a wedding. Carl and Camila are in love; anyone can see that. I’m not such a child that I can’t behave for a day at a public occasion. Are you?”
“No,” Lance said shortly.
“Then you’d better tell Carl and Camila that.”
“Congratulations,” Lance muttered. “I’ll come to your wedding.”
“We appreciate your enthusiasm,” Carl told him.
“I’ll come, too,” Noah said, startling all of them. He hadn’t said a word so far.
“Noah,” Stella hissed.
“If a Cooper can do it, I can do it,” he said. “You should, too.” He turned to Carl and Camila. “Congratulations, you two. I hope you’re very happy.”
“Congratulations,” Maya echoed him.
“Congratulations,” Stella finally said, but she was looking at the table.
“Congrats,” Liam muttered.
“Olivia’s right,” Steel said suddenly. “You two belong together and I, for one, am happy you found each other. I’d be glad to come to the wedding, too.”
“Jed. Virginia. That leaves you two,” Cab pointed out.
Virginia crossed her arms. “If the wedding is at the ranch I found for you, I suppose I might attend,” she said snippily.
“If she’s there, I’ll come to make sure she doesn’t steal anything, like that no good grand-niece of hers.” Jed jutted his chin at Olivia, who rolled her eyes.
“Then it’s all settled,” Cab said. “Everyone dig in before your food gets cold.” He sat down and commenced eating, lifting his glass to Carl and Camila when everyone else followed suit.
After his failure to help his friend negotiate his deal with Fulsom, Carl felt bad asking Sven not only to travel to attend his wedding, but also to be the best man. But Sven seemed to think nothing of it. He was so happy about how the buyout had gone, Carl suspected he’d forgive anything just then.
Now Carl’s wedding day had arrived, and Sven stood by while he got ready, ostensibly for moral support, but to Carl’s surprise he didn’t feel any anxiety. He’d assumed wedding jitters were inevitable, like death and taxes, but as he looked in the mirror, he realized he’d never been more certain he was doing the right thing.
“Guess I’m about as presentable as I’ll ever be,” he said, giving his tie one final tug. He glanced at his watch. “Promised Camila I’d be out of the house pretty quick. Let’s walk the grounds.”
Even after the weeks he’d lived here, there was still plenty of ground left to walk. The fresh morning air and scents of flowering trees called him back to when he’d walked the Pacific Crest Trail years ago, and he smiled when he thought of how far he’d come since then. Glancing at his friend walking beside him, he realized the years had been even more transformative for Sven.
“What are you thinking?” Sven asked. “You’re grinning like a loon.”
“The past few years felt like an eternity. Can’t begin to count how many times I’ve thought I would never find a ranch, never get to date Camila, never fit in here. Looking back on it from this end? It’s amazing how fast it’s all gone. Now everything’s changed, and I’ve got the life I want.”
Sven nodded. “Know what you mean.”
They met up with some of Camila’s relatives near the pavilion where the ceremony was to be held. Arturo and Luis both greeted him warmly. Carl introduced them to Sven, and they continued the tour of the grounds together.
“You’ll have to visit us again soon,” Carl said to Camila’s brothers, who were only there for a couple of days. “Maybe come and help me with the place now and then.”
They both nodded. “We might as well,” Luis said. “Tio Diego keeps saying he’s going to do all the ranch work in Guerrero himself. We keep telling him he’ll have to take it easy, given his health, but just thinking about it is doing him good. The doctor says his blood pressure is down. I swear he lost five pounds overnight.”
“The problem was indeed in his heart,” Arturo said, placing a hand on his chest. “But not in the way the doctors thought. Now that he knows he’s coming home, he’s a happy man.”
Luis surveyed the landscape. “This is a strange ranch. I’m used to fewer cows and a lot more corn.”
“I’m glad you brought that up. I’ve been thinking about trying something new with this property. Camila and I are both very busy people, and we both like it that way. I can’t give up ranching, and I’d never ask her to give up her restaurant, but I don’t like the way the most important parts of our lives are so separate. I want to bring them more in line. Camila and Juana are trying to add authentic Mexican dishes to the menu, but it’s hard for them to get the right ingredients. What they need is an authentic Mexican ranch.”
Arturo scratched his chin. “A novel idea. But do not tell me you mean to grow mangoes and poblano peppers in Montana? I do not see it.”
Carl nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean. You’d be amazed what you can do with geothermal technology these days. This place has more outbuildings than a normal ranch could ever need, and a lot of it was built with aesthetics in mind rather than functionality. See that extra stable over there, with all the glasswork? You’d be insane to put horses in there, but it’d make a fine greenhouse. Not saying it will be easy, but that’s the point. I’m not happy unless my mind is working as hard as my hands.” He smiled at Luis and Arturo. “Of course, I don’t know the first thing about Mexican ranching—except not to let the cows head for the river till after it rains.” They all laughed. “To do this right, I’ll need some help.”
“I’ll help,” Arturo said.
“Me, too.”
“You’d need heat and light in the winter,” Sven mused, sizing up the building in question. “And open air in spring for pollination… some sort of retractable roof…? On an automated schedule, timed—no, with ambient sensors, powered by a solar array…”
Carl fought to suppress a smile. His trap had worked. After all, Sven had just sold his company. Soon enough he’d need something new to do. Still, he proceeded cautiously. “I’d hate to ask you to jump into anything, seeing as you—”
Sven cut him off. “Are you kidding? I was so busy trying to get rich and retire young I never thought about what I’d do afterward.” He shook his head. “Took me about two hours to get sick of relaxing by the pool. I’m already restless. I lie awake at night dreaming up schematics and prototypes. It’s all I can do to keep myself from taking apart and optimizing my toaster every morning.”
Carl raised his eyebrows. “You’re a freshly minted millionaire, and you still eat toast for breakfast? Besides, I know darn well it’ll be months before the hand-over is complete.”
“Please, Carl, I need something new to think about. I’m begging you!”
“All right, all right!” Carl threw up his hands in mock exasperation. “If it means that much to you, I’ll let you build me a revolutionary geothermic mango grow-op the likes of which the world has never seen. But you’d better not make a mess.”
Midafternoon, Camila stood by the window in one of several guest rooms in Carl’s new—no, in their new home. To keep Carl from seeing her in her wedding dress, they’d agreed she would remain inside, and he outside, until the ceremony. She’d been busy overseeing the preparations, but now, with everything done, she ached to be outdoors. Not just because of the brilliant sunshine and the beautiful grounds, but because she couldn’t stand to be away from Carl.
She frowned as she took in the pure blue sky. True, it was a blessing for her wedding day, but a lot of folk in town were beginning to worry. Since there’d been plenty of rain in Guerrero, Camila hadn’t realized anything was amiss back here in Chance Creek at first, but she’d learned there hadn’t been any rain the whole time she’d been gone—or any since.
She’d worry about that another day, she resolved. For now she was content to count her blessings. She had Carl, and they had the perfect ranch. Through their new menu items at Fila’s, she was continuing to reconnect with her heritage, and the citizens of Chance Creek were enthusiastic about it. Carl had wrapped up his business in California and didn’t have any reason to leave Montana any time soon. Perhaps most miraculously, her whole family had come to celebrate this milestone in her life.
She smiled as her eyes drifted to where a pavilion had been set up, along with rows of chairs. They’d talked her relatives down from throwing them an authentic Mexican wedding—the groom barely spoke Spanish, after all—but had allowed them to add a few touches. The aisle between the chairs had been strewn with bright purple jacaranda petals. And of course, mounted prominently above where she and Carl would soon say their vows, was the Olmec jade face mask that started this whole crazy adventure.
“There’s the bride. How do you feel?”
Camila glanced back and smiled to see Mateo entering the room. “Never better,” she told him honestly.
“I need to thank you.”
“No, you don’t,” she began, but Mateo cut her off.
“Yes, I do. I missed you when you moved away, you know. But I have to admit I was glad you never came back and upstaged me.”
“I never meant to make you feel bad,” Camila said. “All I wanted was to cook.”
“I know. It’s what you were born to do. And what I was born having to do.” A trace of old bitterness crossed Mateo’s face, but then he grinned. “Now I get to do what I’m really good at: being the life of the party. Papá approved my business plan before we left Houston.”
“That’s wonderful!” Camila wrapped her brother in her arms, and he hugged her back with enthusiasm.
“It took some convincing. You know how he is about stereotyping Mexican culture. I plan to capitalize on everything that’s hip and sexy about Mexico: salsa dancing, sangrita, reggaeton, wild colors, spicy appetizers. At first Papá insisted it would give gringos a narrow view of our heritage. I convinced him that even though those things are a tiny part of our culture and there’s so much more than that, they still are part of Mexico. If I can get people to take that first bite, maybe they’ll want to look a little deeper, no?” He laughed. “Besides, I showed him how you can sell the same plate of queso fundido at a bar for three times what people would pay for it at dinner—and much more for drinks, too. My projections show a lot more profit than we ever had as a restaurant. I’m sure that helped sway him.”
“It sounds amazing! I’ll have to come visit.” Camila had never seen Mateo so excited about anything.
“You can do a lot more than that, if you want. Someone still needs to make that queso fundido after all.”
Camila blinked. “Are you… offering me a job?”
“Something like that. Don’t think of it as working for me, though. You’d be kitchen manager, and I’d give you full reign to run things however you wanted. I want this club to be the best of the best, and I can’t think of anyone better to make sure our food is up to that standard.”
Camila didn’t know what to say. Years of insecurity, resentment and doubt washed away in a moment. After a lifetime of taking second place to her brother, here he was telling her she was the best.
But it only took another moment before she shook her head. “It means the world to me, really, that you asked. But I know now more than ever that Chance Creek is my home. What?”
Mateo was nodding along and smiling even as she spoke. “I know. You’ve built an incredible life for yourself here—I didn’t really have high hopes.”
“Then why offer?”
“Because I wanted you to know that you deserve it. You always have.”
She hugged him again.
“You’ll be a part of it, in a small way,” Mateo said when they broke apart. “None of this would be possible if not for you and Carl, and I wanted to honor that. Seeing as the name Torres de Sabores doesn’t really suit a nightclub, I’m going to change it to Oro y Plata.”
Camila frowned. Gold and Silver? A decent name, she supposed, but she wasn’t sure what it had to do with her and Carl. “I don’t get it.”
“I do,” Fila said as she came in grinning. “It’s Montana’s state motto, silly.” She took Mateo’s arm. “You have another visitor, Camila. Come on, let’s give them some privacy.”
Fila and Mateo left, and a moment later Camila’s father entered. Diego hesitated in the doorway. “Big day,” he said finally.
She nodded.
“I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you today. And… always.”
Camila didn’t know what to do. When her father crossed the room and embraced her, she hugged him back, blinking away her tears before they spoiled her makeup.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked when they broke apart again. “Must be a hectic day.”
“There is one thing.” Camila took a deep breath. “Ever since going to Mexico I’ve been wondering about my name. Mexicans traditionally have at least four. Why do I only have three?”
“Your mother and I agreed that all of our children born in America should have names that conform to American standards—at least legally. You might only have three names on your passport, but in our hearts you have always had four.”
“Really?”
“By Mexican convention, your paternal last name would be Torres, and your maternal last name would be Barrera. And of course your second name is Margarita.”
“Right,” Camila said. “So my name is…”
“Camila Margarita Torres Barrera.” Her father smiled, glancing out at the pavilion outside. “At least for a few more hours.”